


Ashes

by hataru



Series: Gods and Men [2]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Blood and Gore, Buckle up because we’re heading into non-canon territory, Caught, Confusion, Conner and Cameron are friends, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Goddesses, Immortality, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kissing, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Overpowered Original Characters, Protective Bruce Wayne, References to Illness, Resurrected Jason Todd, Resurrection, Secret Relationship, Teen Romance, Underage Sex, Unresolved Tension, Violet Harper is actually muslim, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hataru/pseuds/hataru
Summary: "Would you go out with me?""I thought we were already outside...?""...I want to kiss you so badly right now."°In order to rise from the ashes,they must first burn.





	Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> I have seen absolutely no Brion/Oc works anywhere so far and I love him a lot so I ended up making this instead of studying for finals. Enjoy.

 

If there was one thing she could remember, it was that the death of a child was something no person ever wanted to witness. Be it young or old, it was something shaking to everyone. A child carried such pure innocence, not yet having seen the true colors of the world.

Children were the future. The hope for change and the miracle of life. And to see that die ― gone in the blink of in eye, as if they never even existed ― was as heartbreaking as it was saddening and enraging.

Tears turned the world into a blur of colors, overflowing and trailing down the skin of her cheek to join countless others in a seemingly never ending drip. With trembling fingers, she placed the small bouquet of wild flowers between cold hands.

The girl had not yet reached her teenage years before her life was taken away. Black tar tainted her skin ― now pale from death ― from where it had seeped from her eyes, her nose, her ears, her _mouth, it was everywhere and she_ ** _beggedfordeath_** ―

She clasped a black stained hand over her mouth, muffling an anguished wail. More tears spilled from her eyes and dripped down her jaw. The image of countless children dying slowly and painfully was burned into her eyelids like a brand, while the sound of their cries echoed in her ears like a broken record. 

"Wait, there's someone―" She could barely hear the voice of a male approaching over the ghostly cries of the deceased children.

Strong hands caught her by the shoulders and pressed her against a firm chest. The same voice hushed her softly, whispering words of comfort as one of his hands stroked her hair. Her sobs soon became quiet whimpers, her hands desperately clutching his larger form.

"―it's okay, shhh, it's okay." He cooed quietly, "You're okay, I'm here." She tried her best to even out her breathing, her forehead pressed against his chest. "You're safe."

Her eyes fluttered open, slowly moving to look at the little girl ― laying on the flowerbed with colorful bouquets clutched between her cold fingers, looking as if she was merely sleeping ― and let herself be carried away, tar still clinging to her skin.

_Was she, really?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The man who had saved her had black hair and a soft blue eyed gaze. His hands had been warm against her cold skin as he guided her to the shower where she had removed all the black that had stained her skin.

He hadn't asked questions until she had been bathed and fed, dressed in clothes a few sizes too big. A fuzzy blanket engulfed her and she was pleased to absorb the warmth into her chilled skin. Her savior had been talking with someone over the phone in hushed whispers, looking conflicted as he glanced back at her.

Ending the conversation, he kneeled in front of her, his hands set on either side of her knees. She glanced down, eyebrows furrowing lightly at the feeling of his warmth so close yet so far, a mild throb in her head. Before he could speak, she looked back up again.

"Did anyone else make it?" Her voice was quiet, no louder than a whisper.

His face twisted into a pained expression at the question and he shook his head slowly, "I'm sorry."

"Oh," Her fingers curled around the material of the blanket and she felt awfully tired, drained. She'd hoped at least one of the children had come out with their lives. At least then she'd have someone who could understand―

"Do you remember anything?" He questioned, his blue eyes looking at her almost pleadingly. "Anything at all?"

Her head throbbed once more and she curled into herself, teeth capturing her bottom lip anxiously. Everything came back in blurs and intelligible conversations and it made her head hurt. But green clothes and a wicked smirk stood out, a thick accented voice accompanying it.

"There was a man―" Her lips pursed as she pushed past the pain and looked into her savior's eyes, "He kept the others away from me... He said he was a, um, a count?" She stuttered slightly, unsure if she had said it correctly or her memory was failing her completely.

Recognition flashed in his eyes, "Vertigo."

She heard the ghostly thump of a fist against something hollow and solid while a snarling voice in her head said " _Count Vertigo to you, peasant scum._ " Her fingers came up to her temples to try and ease the pain, gasping a soft _yes_ to confirm his statement.

"Of course," The blue eyed man sighed heavily, sounding tired. He took his phone in hand once more and typed something on it before pocketing it. "What about your name? Can you remember?" He continued, patient rather than forceful.

The ache in her head wasn't as strong as before when she tried remembering, her hands returning to her lap. "He called me Jane..." Her eyebrows furrowed at the vague memory of another name― a last name? "Denali."

A soft smile graced his lips ― filled with relief ― and as it lit up his face, she found that it suited him. He extended his warm hand and she took almost no time in taking it with her chilled one.

"I'm Nightwing, but without the mask, you can call me Dick."

 


End file.
